The Brood
by Debwood-1999
Summary: After escaping an abusive relationship, Matt is dragged to a concert, where he's drawn to one of the band members. A relationship begins, but his new romance may put him in more danger than the relationship he escaped.
1. Chapter 1

**THE BROOD** (Working Title)

By Debwood

_This is R-rated for language, violence, and other things. _

_**Chapter One  
**_

It wasn't pulling the speed demon in the classic Dodge over that bothered him. What bothered Officer Smith was that he hadn't had a chance to drink his coffee yet. Sighing, he climbed out of his cruiser, Styrofoam cup in one hand, walkie-talkie in the other. The driver of the pulled over vehicle, a young man with wavy blonde hair and sunglasses, sat quietly, his calm expression concealing his impatience. He had a gig to get to, and already he was running late.

_Come on, officer! I have places to go and things to do!_ he thought. _My band's gonna start practice without me, and I'm bound to get hell from everyone._ Through his sunglasses, he watched Officer Smith reach for his walkie-talkie. A wild idea suddenly struck him, and he turned his attention to the road ahead.

Everything happened at once. The driver floored the gas pedal, and his car pealed out with a screech of tires and a cloud of dust. Officer Smith, startled by the car's sudden takeoff, dropped his coffee and dove back into his cruiser. But, by the time he got back into his car and put it into Drive, the Dodge was already gone.

The young driver glanced over his shoulder to make sure the cop wasn't behind him. When he was confident that no lights would be flashing in his rear-view mirror any time soon, he turned back to the road and laughed. "So long, Sucker!" he said.

The car zoomed past a local high school, where the kids had just been let out for the day. In the parking lot, the street team of the band the speed demon sung for slid ads underneath car windshields. In the courtyard, groups of students hunched over copies of the school paper and discussed the upcoming concert advertised on Page Seven.

By the time the young man walked through the door of the Black Lava, guitar case in hand, the rest of his band had started rehearsal without him. The lead guitarist glanced over and said, "It's about damn time you showed up, Addy! We've been playing without you for almost fifteen minutes!"

Adam Copeland threw his leather coat onto the nearest table and opened his guitar case. "Whatever, Chris. I got detained."

Chris cocked a blonde eyebrow. "Detained?"

"By one of the city's finest. I was doing 50 in a 35, and he was about to call me in and write out a ticket."

David, the band's drummer, glanced up over his drum kit. "About to?"

Adam cracked a smile. "That is, until my foot slipped," he continued, plugging his guitar in and tuning it. "By the time the officer got it together, I was long gone."

"Oh, you're bad!" exclaimed David, as the rest of the band members laughed.

"Come on. It's not like I haven't done it before."

"We're just waiting for the day you finally get busted for driving like a maniac," chimed in Daffney, their lead singer. The bassist, Jay, just chuckled softly and shook his head.

"By the time I get busted, it'll be snowing in Hell." A pause. "Let's start this rehearsal for real, Guys."

Although he hadn't been in the music industry for long, Adam could tell the difference between a Good Night and a Bad Night. From the get go, Adam knew this was going to be a Good Night. The band blasted through "Crawling The Walls," then followed with "Broken Glass" without missing a beat. The instruments sounded tight and well-tuned, and the timing was excellent. The waitresses on duty actually sat to listen, obviously impressed. Adam noticed heads nodding and smiled inwardly. Everything about Adam—his stance, his walk, his mannerisms-said, "Here I am! Take notice!" It spilled over into the music his band wrote and played-he just made the guys around him want to play better.

Finally, when the set was finished, the band racked their instruments and headed off the stage for a much-needed break. "Hey, Addy! Get the hair out of your eyes," David joked, noticing that the blonde's hair was flopping in his face. "You look like a Muppet!"

"Ha!" Adam flipped his hair out of his face. "You're one to talk! You look like you just crawled out of a Dumpster," he cracked back, referring to David's beat up sweatshirt and jeans.

David shook his head laughingly and chugged out of his water bottle. No matter how much he tried to tease his bandmate, Adam always seemed to have an appropriate comeback.

Chris approached the lead and put an arm over his shoulder. "Addy, you wanna grab a bite to eat before we go out on stage for real?"

"I'm not hungry, but I'll go with you guys anyway," Adam answered, noticing that Johnny was looking at him strangely. He lowered his voice. "What's the matter, Irvine? I ate before I came over here. You look like I'm gonna bite you or something."

"Nothing earth-shattering. I just had a strange thought run through my head."

"You are a strange thought."

"I'm not sure about this," said Matt Hardy, as he, his brother, and his best friend arrived at the front door of the Black Lava at 8:30 that evening. "This shirt feels way too revealing." He tugged at the hem of the top he wore. It was black and stretchy, short-sleeved, with ribbing on it that made him feel like he was showing off more than he should.

"No you don't Matty," reassured the tall blonde on his right. "You look good in it. I don't know why it bought it in the first place, but it looks better on you than it does on me."

"I feel exposed, Jeff. I can't believe you gave me this to wear! I swear I'll never let you pick out my clothes again."

Jeff, Matt's baby brother, laughed. "Come on, you look tremendous. I don't think anyone short of Mor could rock that shirt like you can."

"I admire your bravery, stepping out like that," piped in Phil Brooks (everyone called him Punk), as he smoothed out his black Motorhead T-shirt. "With that shirt and the pants, you look like you're practically inviting some hot guy to cop a feel."

"Thanks, Phil. I so needed to hear that," Matt said, his voice dripping sarcasm. He pulled out his wallet and removed his ID and a ten-dollar bill.

Jeff shook his head. "Come on, Matty. You haven't been laid in like forever. I know your track record, especially your recent one. You can't let one bad experience ruin it for you permanently. You have to suck it up and start over."

"Which is why we're dragging you here," Punk added, giving Matt a nudge forward. "You're getting out of the house, and you're gonna have a good time if it kills you."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," sighed Matt, as he showed his ID to the bouncer.

The bouncer checked the ID and let Matt enter the building, and then did the same to Jeff and Punk. "Enjoy the show."

Matt entered the building first. As he walked down the narrow hall that led to the stage, the abundance of neon and black lights struck him. It made Matt's head spin and made every fluorescent color in the place jump out at him. It was overwhelming, and just a little disorienting. The combined clouds of cigarette and weed smoke made Matt feel like he'd just stepped through the looking glass like Alice and entered a psychedelic Wonderland.

The hall opened up to a huge room swarming with young adults. Most of them were high school or college age like Matt, but some of them were older. They swayed and bounced and shouted along with the music coming from the stage against the far wall. The bar stood across from the stage, and more people were crowded around it, assaulting the bartender with their drink orders. The music playing was loud and vicious and crackling with energy.

_So this is The Brood, the band everyone on campus has been talking about,_ Matt thought, studying the quintet for a moment. _They definitely don't sound like amateurs!_ He remembered something he'd read about them in the local paper while on break at work-something about them winning some Battle Of The Bands over at McMahon Park a couple of months ago.

His gaze traveled to the dark-haired lead singer. She looked like a psycho Goth chick, dressed in some corset-bustier dress thing that probably came off the rack at Hot Topic. She bounced and swayed and pranced around the stage with manic energy and a catlike grace. She grabbed handfuls of her dark, straight hair, swung the mike stand around, and crouched down to get eye-level with the fans up front. Her singing voice moved effortlessly from gravelly-growly to silky-smooth, to banshee-screech. She was belting out the chorus to a song Matt had never heard before.

She wasn't unattractive by any stretch, but Matt didn't feel any real attraction towards her. She was definitely more Jeff's type, since Jeff was quite fond of the opposite gender. Matt shook his head, remembering the look of shock on his dad's face when he came out three years ago. _He thought Jeff was gay,_ he thought in sour amusement. _Turns out he had us confused._

Matt turned his attention back to the band. Wow, they didn't just play – they _unleashed! _And the rest of the band-the two guitarists, the bassist, and the drummer-were feeding off of the energy they were generating. They jumped around and played like musicians possessed. The audience was feeding off of it as well. Kids were body surfing and hooting and jumping and slamming in time to the furious beat. Before long, Matt and his two companions found themselves happily lost in the chaos.

Someone handed Matt a purple glow stick. "Wave this around!" she told him. "They're fun!"

"Sure, whatever," Matt answered, unsure if the kid had heard him above the crowd, and not really caring. The music had him by the neck, and he didn't want it to let go. It made him think of the smile of someone who was secretly into BDSM and other sexually deviant acts. A dark, nasty sort of knowledge lay behind the lyrics and backbeat.

Matt's gaze traveled to the rhythm guitarist on the left. _Wow, he's definitely easy on the eyes! _ he thought. He and his companions got close enough to the stage to catch details. He was tall, over six-foot, with piercing eyes (he couldn't tell the color; Matt wasn't that up close) and a twisted, yet handsome grin. His hair was thick and blonde, falling in waves around his face and down his back. He (and the rest of the guys strutting on stage) wore black silk shirts with patterns on them that looked hypnotic, and faded blue jeans that looked just short of pornographically tight.

_Man, these guys are awesome!_ Before he knew it, Matt was waving her light stick along with the other kids, adding another purple streak to the fluttering multitude. He, Jeff, and Punk jumped up and down like sugared-up ten year-olds at a sleepover

Finally, when the song ended, the audience gave out a roar, and the lead stepped back from the mike and flipped her long hair out of her face. "We gotta catch our breaths, we'll be back!" she shouted. "You guys are f?king awesome!"

Matt couldn't help smiling and hoped the band would come back soon to play the next set.

_NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This story was actually written about five years ago, with different characters. I just recently got hooked on all things WWF Attitude Era, especially The Brood (Brief pause while I kick the Creative team's ass for breaking them up so early). For some reason, The Brood seemed to work as a band in this rewrite. I'm not sure who I'll be pairing up in this one, it's too early in the game. It may be Matt/Adam but who knows, that may change._

_BTW: Matt's 23 in this story, Jeff's 20 (before the tats and colors in his hair) and Punk's also 20. I'd reveal more, but I don't want to tip my hand too early. Hopefully, I didn't make Matt sound too much like a girl! Read & Review. Reviews = Love. Plus, you get cookies!:-D_

_DW _


	2. Chapter 2

_NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Thanks for the reviews! DBS: I can't get enough of The Brood either. I wish I'd been a wrestling fan when they first came out. Redsandman99: I doubt Adam's little stunt's gonna come back to bite him. In later chapters, you'll probably see why._

_**Chapter Two**_

In the band's breakroom, the guys sat to catch their breaths, dry off and grab a few drinks. David and Jay sat on the couch against the wall, discussing the next set. Chris, the band's lead guitarist, was pawing through the icebox across from the couch in search of adult beverages. Adam and Daffney lay on the cold concrete floor in order to dump the heat out of their bodies before they got overheated.

"I don't understand you, Addy," Daffney observed. "There's a thousand ripe halter tops in the audience tonight, and you haven't found anyone out there worthy of a look?"

"Don't exaggerate, Daff. And I don't swing that way, remember?"

Daffney sat up and slapped her forehead. "Fucking blonde moment, and I'm not even blonde!" she exclaimed, amid laughter from the rest of the band."

"Maybe you burned out a few brain cells with your last dye job and forgot. The way you change your hair color, I wouldn't be surprised," Jay managed, between giggles.

Daffney flipped Jay the bird, and then stretched back down on the floor. "Seriously, Addy, isn't there anyone out there worth a look, male or female? I mean, you had everyone practically throwing themselves at your feet during the first set! It's like you're waiting for them to start campaigning up and down the main drag with loudspeakers on the tops of vans! When are you ever gonna settle down?"

"When I feel like it. So there. David, Jay and I are trying to develop this band."

Chris emerged from the icebox with a large bottle and five shot glasses. "Addy, you, your brother, and your dad have more money than God, it seems. Our band outfits didn't come off the rack at Macy's. Our instruments are all top of the line. Hell, you could _buy _us a recording contract if you wanted—"

"But if we did that," cut in David, "We'd have nobody to promote our music to. You forget that in order for this band to be successful, we have to have the fans to back us up. Word of mouth is the best advertising. Mention The Brood to anyone in this town, they're gonna say, 'I know them! I saw them play at the Black Lava. They put on a kickass show!"

"Besides, Chris," Jay said, "We're playing in venues where we don't look like trash. Hey-we're playing at the Levesque auditorium next week. And that's NOT a trashy venue." A pause, and then he turned to David. "Oh, by the way Dad, we need to call the internet company tomorrow and get some more bandwidth. We had so many hits on our Facebook page, the server crashed."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Subject didn't come up."

"Oh, and Dad," Adam chimed in, "I went over to Pete and Repete Records before I got pulled over today, and we're front-racked in the Local Talent section."

"Nice." Chris set the shot glasses and the adult beverage down on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Guys, move your feet."

"What's the magic word?" Jay asked.

Chris cracked a wry smile. "Now."

Jay chuckled and took his feet off the table. "Just pulling your chain."

Adam suppressed a laugh and sat up. He recognized the bottle on the table, and his eyes lit up. "Jager! The guy running this club must really like us."

Daffney followed suit. "You gave the owner our demo. Hand me a shot."

The shot glasses were filled and distributed. Each of the band members had two shots when a stagehand announced that it was time to play the next set.

"That," Adam said, referring to the Jagermeister shots, "was comfort food. Hell, if that doesn't get you comfortable, I don't know what else will!"

The others laughed as they headed out the door. Jeremy stood up and shook his head at Daffney, who was still on the floor. "What are you waiting for, Christmas to hit you? Let's go," he said, offering a helping hand.

Daffney allowed her friend to help him up. Adam pulled Daffney up off the floor with a strength that surprised the lead singer. "You been working out, Addy?"

"I've always been pretty strong. Let's go."

Phil, who was at the bar getting Pepsis for his friends, glanced over his shoulder. "Ex-boyfriend alert! Matt, look where I'm pointing."

Matt glanced over his own shoulder. A tall young man with long, straight dishwater blonde hair and a blue flannel shirt stood at the other end of the bar. Matt recognized him and blanched. "Oh, dammit! Not him!"

"Please don't look this way, please don't look this way!" Phil whispered.

The ex-boyfriend did. If he recognized Matt and Phil, he didn't show it. Nevertheless, he took a few steps forward.

"I think he saw us!" whispered Matt. "Punk, we have to lose him!"

"Okay. Let's go find Jeff…he said he found a table for us. Hold one of these drinks for me." Drinks in hand, Matt and Phil wove their way through the enthusiastic sea of young adults until they found Jeff sitting at a big table with some kids they recognized from school.

"Safety in numbers, you're smart, Jeffro!" Matt said, as he and Punk plunked themselves down at the table Jeff had found for them. "I think we'll keep you around a while."

"What are you talking about?" questioned Jeff as he took the drink Phil had set down in front of him.

"We saw Matt's ex."

"Lovely," Jeff said scornfully. "Who, Drew?"

"The Seething Scotsman himself." Matt sipped his Pepsi. "Thank God I got away from him."

"It's a good thing you had us," Jeff said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have anywhere else to go."

"I know. Maybe Drew was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Phil nearly choked on his soda. "You're crazy! He's an abusive a-hole! I remember seeing you with bruises on your arms, and black eyes. How can you say he was the best thing that ever happened to you?"

"No, hear me out. I mean, he got me to finally stand on my own two feet and live on my own. Come on, after I walked out on him, I moved into the house with you and Jeff. We're living on our own. Maybe it's not the best living situation, but we're doing the real world thing now."

The past two years had not been easy for Matt. After moving out of the dorms, he moved in with Drew, who had been his boyfriend at the time. At first, he treated Matt decently. However, Matt discovered that Drew drank on a regular basis. He got angry when he drank, and more often than not, Matt was the nearest available target for his wrath. What was difficult for Matt was even more so for Jeff. It was almost impossible to watch his older brother go from a self-assured, confident, happy man to a miserable, insecure basket case. Abuse hotlines were out of the question, because many of those support systems became cold and distant when it was mentioned that Matt's abuser was also a man.

Finally, after a rather vicious fight, during which Matt was thrown through a patio door (thankfully, he only went through the screen, but he still landed in the hospital), Matt finally packed up and moved in with his younger brother. Jeff worked at the local tattoo parlor as a paid apprentice, and he was renting a house with Phil. The three of them had been living together for eight months.

Phil had to agree with his friend. "I see your point. Are you ever gonna find another boyfriend? It's been nearly a year since the Seething Scotsman, and all the dates you've had since then I can count on one hand."

"What about Mike from work? I've gone to shoot pool with him after work a few times."

"Mizanin doesn't count. He's a guy friend. Not a b.f."

"Well, sorry. And another thing, Punk. If I ever get involved in another relationship right now, it'll be too soon."

Jeff, who was listening in on the little exchange, laughed. "You're just saying that, Matty. The right guy's gonna come along when you least expect it."

"With my luck, he'll use me for a target, too!"

"Cheer up! At least you had enough _cojones_ to get away from Drew when you did. If you find Seething Scotsman the Second, I'm sure you'll drop him too. Hey! The band's coming back on stage. Let's finish our drinks."

Adam motioned for the barkeep and slid the guy another dollar bill. "Let's do this again," he said, pointing to his shot glass.

The barkeep, a big guy with a do-rag to cover his bald (by choice, he'd shaved) head, put another shot of Jack into the glass. He leaned across the bar and smiled. "How about I just give you the rest of the bottle?"

"Naah," Adam pshawed him. "I've had enough for now. I have to drive home, and I don't want to get too loaded."

The barkeep nodded and went to fill other drink orders, leaving Adam to down his final shot.

The show had ended an hour ago, and the stage was empty, the band's gear packed neatly away by the stagehands. Adam and the rest of his bandmates were circulating through the happy crowd and grabbing a few drinks while they were at it. The rhythm guitarist cast a sweeping glance across the room, and didn't see anyone promising yet. But, he did hear an argument three chairs down from him, and he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

A young man with perfectly coiffed hair and chiseled features was locked in a quarrel with a young man in a blue flannel shirt. Judging by the flailing arms and raised voices, the fight was getting heated. Finally, the young man dumped his drink over the head of the flannel-shirted hothead. That resulted in a few choice words from the young man, who turned on his heel and stalked off.

Adam flinched. He didn't know what it was, but there was something inherently repulsive about the kid. _I hope I don't run into him!_

He watched the young man shake his head and sigh. After studying him briefly, he smiled softly. _Well, now. Maybe he's not Mr. Right, but he'll be Mr. Right Now!_ he decided.

Slowly, he rose from his chair and approached him. "Don't you hate it when guys try to hit on you, and you don't want them to?"

The young looked up and smiled. "Yeah. He wouldn't leave me alone, and he called me a slut-I don't even know him."

"I don't know him either, but he sounds like a prick."

"You better believe it. Hey, your band rocks the hell out of everything else I've heard here."

"Thanks! In case you didn't hear the intros on stage, I'm Adam."

"Everyone calls me JoMo, or Mor. Good to meet you."

"Likewise. Hey, let's get away from these kids and get to know each other a little better. You game?"

"Okay, sure."

They found an empty table along the wall and talked a little. Soon, the conversation became a make-out session. JoMo nibbled on Adam's ear, and he responded by nuzzling JoMo's neck and kissing him full on the lips.

They pulled away briefly. "You're not taken, are you?" JoMo asked. "I mean, if you have a girlfriend-"

"No," Adam said, simply.

"Okay," JoMo nodded, and locked lips for Round Two.

Adam got lost in soft lips, citrusy aftershave, and traces of Jagermeister. JoMo's skin felt like warm satin against his lips. He pulled away again, resulting in a small groan of protest.

"Sorry," Adam said. "I hope I don't scratch you."

"I don't care. Go for it."

Adam dropped a line of kisses down JoMo's neck, feeling the pulse throb happily against his lips. He nuzzled the pulse, enjoying the sensation briefly.

Then, he struck.

With JoMo too swept up in the moment to notice, it would be easy. Slowly, Adam parted his lips, and a pair of fangs, needle sharp and white, emerged. He sealed his mouth over JoMo's neck and pierced the skin. JoMo let out a soft groan of pleasure as his copper-sweet blood flowed from her body and into Adam's

A groups of young men noticed JoMo with his donor and assumed that the two of them were just making out. Adam's hair fell in such a way that it easily hid the space where his lips met JoMo's throat. The boys walked away shaking their heads. One of them said, "Man-whore."

_I'll NEVER get tired of this!_ Adam thought briefly, as the familiar giddiness rushed through him like a warm breeze. His heart beat in perfect harmony with that of his willing donor, and his pulse thundered in his ears. Power surged through him, making his body come alive with new intensity and strength. He wouldn't trade this feeling of pure rapture for anything else.

Finally, instinct told Adam to stop. He pulled away, eliciting a little whine of protest from JoMo. Gently, he licked the puncture marks he'd made in JoMo's throat, closing them instantly. He ran his tongue across his lips to ensure that he had no residual blood on them, and then fumbled in his coat pocket for the box of Altoids he brought with him. Quickly, he put a piece of the candy into his mouth, then whispered a suggestion in his donor's mind.

JoMo blinked and shook his head. "You're a helluva kisser," he remarked, smiling craftily.

"Years of practice," said Adam. The confidence in his voice was genuine. "So, you come here alone?"

JoMo shook his head. "I have a friend over at the bar. He loves your band. Wanna meet him? We could…well, you know, hang out."

"Sure. You only live once, right?" Adam helped JoMo to his feet. "You don't mind sharing me with my brother, do you?"

JoMo nodded. "Sounds intriguing."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: OOOPS! I forgot my disclaimer! I do not own the WWE or its characters. This is a pure work of fiction, and I respect the real life beliefs and sexualities of every performer.

Reviews = much love = more chapters!:-D

"Man-whore," said Phil, shaking his head at the couple necking at the table. "Some guys have all the luck."

"I agree," Matt said, as he finished the last sip of his Pepsi. "He looks like a total groupie, no wonder he's locking lips with him. Where'd Jeff take off to?"

"He went to find us a table to play pool."

"Well, I guess I can make you guys look bad for the five-hundredth time."

"Hey! We're not that bad. It's not our fault that we don't play pool after work."

The two of them found Jeff back at the bar, where he was purchasing a bottle of Bud Light. He approached them, bottle in hand.

Matt's eyes widened. "What the hell? You're not twenty-one!"

Jeff lowered his voice. "Fake ID."

Phil gasped. "No! Where'd you get one?"

"Remember that one time we went to the mall and we got our pictures taken in the photo booth? You guys were razzing me about not goofing for my picture. This little card is why." He pointed out a bogus name and address. See? My name's Michael, and I'm a student at the University of Alabama."

"Careful, Jeffro. This is the Tarheel State. You're in enemy territory," Matt joked.

"That's why Michael's just visiting."

"Where'd you get this?"

"Kofi Kingston, from a friend."

"This is amazing!" Matt took the card and turned it in his hand. It was such a good counterfeit, it even showed a state seal. "Illegal, but amazing."

"You guys should get one."

"No way!" Phil cut in. "I'm Straight Edge, remember? And even if I did get one, with my luck, I'd get busted for underage drinking."

"How about you, Matty? Kofi can make one for you cheap."

Matt shook his head. "No, thanks."

"You guys are wet blankets." Jeff pocketed his fake ID. "Pool tables are upstairs. We'd better get one before they're all taken."

The guys took off for the upstairs, with Matt bringing up the rear. As He neared the foot of the stairs, He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Drew, The Seething Scotsman, hadn't seen him. His good fortune hadn't run out yet.

At the bar, he saw the blonde rhythm guitarist of the band talking to a young man who looked so young, he appeared underage, dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt with the band's logo emblazoned across it. The groupie he had locked lips with was hanging off his arm, ensuring that there was no space between either one of them. Matt faintly heard, "So, do you have a little rock star in you?" Both young men laughed. He squeezed the first groupie's shoulder and leaned over to say something that resulted in shocked looks, more laughter and knowing smiles.

_Well,_ Matt thought. _Let me guess. He's gonna lay both of them, score with a third and go home with a fourth. Of course he's gonna get some tail—he's in the band, for crying out loud!_

After a few more words, the guitarist left, the two boys in tow. The barkeep glanced over from his work and watched the three of them walk off, a look of mild envy on his face.

Matt found himself staring at the blonde guitarist again, as he strolled across the floor with his conquests. The lead singer had introduced the band at the beginning of the second set, but He couldn't remember his name. Aaron, Andrew, Aidan…dammit! Whatever his name was, he was gorgeous, beautiful even, with an aura that drew everyone to him. Earlier, fans came over to compliment the show and ask where they could get the band's CD. He didn't seem to grow tired of this. He'd talked with and moved through the crowd with an easy grace, no trace of impatience in either his voice or movements. No wonder the groupie had locked lips with him. No wonder the underage looking guy had left with him as well. Come to think of it, many of the fans who'd flocked to him—groupies included—were young women and men not much older than Matt.

Without warning, the blonde turned and met eyes with Matt.

_Whoa!_ Matt got lost briefly in the rhythm guitarist's eyes. They were blue, the piercing type of blue that could stare right through somebody and see the deepest parts of his or her soul. The lead's gaze was like lightning. It struck fast and hard and without warning, and Matt couldn't turn away.

"Hey, Matty!"

He turned, the trance broken. Jeff was standing above him, an irritated look on his face. "We've found a table. Let's go."

"Thanks." Matt followed his roommate up the stairs. Come on, _Matt, it was nothing! He just turned and made eye contact. Not that it's a bad thing. It could have been worse. It could have been your ex!_

_Wow! He's hot!_ Adam had just glanced absently over his shoulder when he saw the young man. He was standing near the foot of the metal staircase, just watching the scene. The man was tall, with a muscular build made more attractive by the cargo pants he wore. His stretchy black top looked molded to his body, making him look quite delectable.

But he could pick up more details than the average man. The young man's face was a perfect oval, with full lips, high cheekbones, and dark, dark eyes. His hair was dark and glossy, and it spilled halfway down his back. One look at him, and Adam was spellbound.

But then he snapped out of it. _What the hell, Addy! He's probably not your type. Leave him be!_ Shaking his head, Adam continued towards the exit. It was time to call it a night. But even as he and the two groupies went to meet up with Jay and ultimately head towards his car, he still kept thinking back to the young man on the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

The door to Adam's bedroom swung open and Adam, Jay, JoMo, and his young friend (his name was Evan) bobbed and weaved their way inside. Drunken laughter echoed down the hall as they made their way to the bedroom for a couple hours of fun. Neither Jay nor Adam were worried about biting either one of their guests. Hunger was no longer an issue—JoMo had donated plenty earlier, and Jay had taken his fill during a near-nonstop makeout session with Evan in the back of Adam's car on the way here—now they had another, more carnal appetite to satisfy.

_So, do you have a little rock star in you?_

Adam raised his arms so that JoMo could slip his leather coat off and reach around to unbutton his shirt. Slowly, Adam lowered his arms, and JoMo slid the shirt off his shoulders. The articles of clothing settled to the floor, a haphazard pile of leather and silk. His shoes were still on his feet. He wriggled out of them and his socks. Shirtless and barefoot, he gently shoved JoMo, and then Evan, onto the bed.

A crafty smile touched Jay's lips as he pulled off his own clothes. He hopped onto the king-sized bed and reached down to unzip Evan's jeans. His pale skin was covered in freckles. The freckles, and his big doelike eyes, made Jay think of a wood nymph or sprite. Evan and JoMo were quite attractive, each in their own ways, and as Jay slid the tight jeans off of Evan's legs, he thought of what he wanted to do to the young man. Heart pounding, he knelt onto the bed and ran his hands along Evan's chest, down his stomach and beyond. Yeah. He was perfect.

Evan tensed up slightly. "You okay, Babe?" Jay asked him, sensing the young man's hesitancy.

"Yeah, but...you're brothers, aren't you?"

"We're not related. We're adopted," Jay smirked, as Evan sighed in relief.

Jay nuzzled the warm spot where Evan's neck met his shoulder. The young man had an almost freshly-plucked scent, like apple shampoo. A little kid's scent in a big kid's body. A sly smile slithered across Jay's lips. When he was through with Evan, he wasn't going to be such a little kid anymore.

Not wanting to miss anything, JoMo climbed on top of Adam and began to nibble on his neck and his ear. His hands reached around again, this time to play with the tiny hoops that pierced both nipples on his chest. Adam sighed and tilted his head back. JoMo slithered one of his hands up the back of Adam's neck and ran his fingers through his hair. He let his tongue skate across the hollow of his shoulder and up his neck. He then lowered his head so he could bite and suck and tease Adam's nipples. He then headed further south, peppering Adam's stomach with soft kisses alternating with carnal licks, like he was trying to have him for a midnight snack.

"Ohhh," Adam sighed, tilting his head back. This attention would have made any man feel good. To Adam's senses, this felt even more exquisite. As his pulse thundered in his ears and his breath caught in his throat, he barely noticed that JoMo had unzipped his jeans.

_So, do you have a little rock star in you?_

Adam closed his eyes and smiled slightly. This encounter was gonna rock.

Jay and Adam slept through most of the day, tangled up in the bedsheets and curled up like cats, with blackout curtains over the windows. Their eyes flickered back and forth rapidly beneath their closed eyelids and soft mewls escaped their lips as they moved through separate dreams of wolves and mountain lions hunting in the night, the blood of their prey dripping onto the ground. They also dreamed of black roses stained with drops of blood.

Finally, a stray beam of light sneaked in through the curtains and cut across the planes of Adam's face like a laser. He sighed and pried his eyes open. _Aww! Just as it was getting interesting! _he groaned silently, and sat up in bed. Four p.m., according to the numbers on his clock radio. He reached down and gently shook his brother awake. "Hey, wake up Jay-Jay,"

Jay woke up quickly, pouting. "Dammit, Addy," he sighed. "I was having this awesome dream that I was a big wolf and I'd just taken down a thirty-point buck. I was gonna go for the jugular and you had to wake me up."

Adam scowled. "Well, good morning to you too, sunshine," he said, slapping the top of his brother's head. Climbing out of bed, he remembered that the band had no gigs or appearances this night or the next, and Adam relished the much-needed down time.

"Why don't we just sleep in a little while longer?" groaned Jay, as he sat up. "It's not like we have to be anywhere like right now."

"Because Dad might be taking us out hunting later," Adam said, climbing off the bed.

"Why can't we just have a couple of units out of the fridge?"

"'Cause, Victor doesn't have enough stock to give us yet. Jay-Jay, those units have to last us until the end of the week."

"Whatever." Jay gazed at his brother's naked form and whistled. "Nice back."

Adam glanced over his shoulder. "You like my front?"

"Uhh...it's okay." Jay smirked. Adam threw a pillow at him.

Jay chuckled and rolled over on his side. The faint light in the room revealed a sheet of paper on the empty pillow to his right. A note. _Thanks for the awesome time! _it read. _We'd stay longer, but we had to get to work. Hope it was as good for you as it was for us! JoMo and Evan. _

_And Evan left his phone number. Oh, I'm calling him later, for sure! _A smile tweaked across Jay's features as he replayed a few steamy highlights. Last night was fantastic, not just physically but mentally: in the heat of the action, he couldn't help but slip into Adam, JoMo and Evan's minds and read their thoughts as they all screwed him and each other. The ability always made Jay feel a bit like a Twilight-Zone Peeping Tom, but it was an incredible turn on. He hadn't considered that their guests were so talented, but WOW! The things two creative and athletic humans and two creative and athletic vampires could do to each other.

It was time to get up, get dressed, and get something in his stomach. Jay launched into a full-body stretch and pulled himself out of bed. Once his feet were on the floor, he removed the sheets from the bed (they needed to be washed) so that he wouldn't be tempted to climb back into it. Then, barefoot and naked, he plodded across the floor to the dresser to grab some clean clothing.

Jay, Adam and David lived on the top floor of the Hotel Monolith, a twelve-story Art Deco affair built in the 1930's , located three blocks down from the hospital. David had picked this hotel for many reasons. Convenience was one of them; a vamp friend worked as a night records clerk in the hospital and sold David and his sons blood units that were ditched either due to expiration date or contamination.

It was a nice place. It was comfortably furnished with the sort of furniture that never went out of style. The place had three bedrooms, a huge bathroom, a great room that was used as a living room-music studio area, a kitchen that was rarely used (vampires didn't cook) and a lovely eastern exposure view. The housekeeper came in twice a week to clean (with strict instructions NOT to look in the fridge and to stay out of the bedroom closets), so it was always in good order. Of course, all these accoutrements would cost a small fortune, but David and his sons had lived here rent free for years, which allowed them all to sink as much money as they could into their band to promote and develop it.

While Jay picked out his clothes, Adam stepped into the bathroom, turned the shower on, and adjusted the temperature. As he stepped into the steamy spray, Adam thought of all the vampire myths and a laugh escaped his lips. _The one about sleeping in coffins-I've laughed my ass silly over that one many a time. And the one about sunlight, that's a good one. _

Contrary to popular beliefs, vampires didn't burn up in sunlight, they weren't undead, and they didn't have hard skin that sparkled like diamonds. They were still human, just altered. They were warm, they breathed, and they had heartbeats. Sunlight didn't kill vampires; they avoided the sun because it hurt their eyes. Vamps didn't like garlic, but then again, if your sense of smell was ten times sharper than that of your average bloodhound, you wouldn't like it much either. They slept in beds like everyone else.

There were so many vampire myths around, it was impossible to tell what was true and what wasn't. _Maybe it's a good thing that so many myths are around,_ Adam thought as picked up the body wash and wash rag off the windowsill and soaped up. _They actually keep us safe._

Adam sensed Jay's presence before the shower door slid open. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, playfully.

"Sure." Adam held out the soapy washrag. "You can wash my back."

Jay shot his brother a mild scowl before stepping under the spray of water and grabbing the washrag from his brother. "Hmmph! I'm the hot-looking bass player in the hottest band in town, and what am I to you? I'm your personal back washer."

"I thought you liked my back!"

Jay ran the soapy rag across his brother's back and shoulders. "I like your front just as much."

Adam pouted. "You said, exact words, 'Uhh...it's okay.' I'm so hurt."

"You know I'm kidding, Addy." Smiling deviously, Jay set the washrag aside and stepped in front of his brother. He ran his fingers up and down Adam's chest. "I like every part of you. Front, back, and everywhere else."

"Really? You wanna prove that to me?"

"But of course," Jay smiled, as he wrapped his arms around Adam's shoulders and pulled him close. He nibbled gently on Adam's earlobe, and then dropped a small line of chaste kisses down his jaw and cheek.

"You tease!" Adam sighed.

"I'm getting there!" Jay traced the outline of Adam's lips with his tongue, and then leaned in to capture his mouth in a deep kiss.

Adam couldn't help but return the favor. He snaked his tongue into Jay's mouth, taking in a lazy taste. Jay sighed and slid his tongue gently into Adam's mouth as well. Their tongues twined together as they relished the feel and taste of each other, and their hands began to roam each other's bodies.

Then without warning, Adam pivoted so that Jay was shoved up gently against the shower stall. Jay let out a mild squeak of protest, which turned into a pleasured little moan as Adam's hand clutched the back of his head and pulled it gently back. "Addy, you need to shave," he sighed, as Adam dropped a line of worshipful kisses down his neck.

"Is that all you can think of?" Adam let his free hand drift down his brother's chest. His thumb ghosted over Jay's nipples, hardening them into little jewels.

"No, I_-aah! _Oh, hell! Do that again!"

"What, this?" Adam brushed his thumb across Jay's nipple, and Jay let out a soft sound, a cross between a gasp, a sigh and a moan. "So, now do you like my front?"

"I've - I've always liked your front," Jay managed as Adam moved his hand from the back of Jay's head to the small of his back, pulling him even closer. There was hardly any space now between the two of them.

"So have I." Adam nuzzled his brother's neck. "Your front...your back...your top...your bottom..." A dark smirk crossed his lips as he drifted his free hand down Jay's stomach and reached down to fondle him.

Jay's eyes rolled back in his head. "Ooohhh...feels so good...don't stop," he gasped, as he was gently stroked. His knees buckled and he fell into his brother's arms. It never failed-no matter how many times Jay tried to dominate his brother, Adam always had him moaning like a slut in the end.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted their petting session, and broke the mood. "Awww, hell!" Jay groaned.

Adam glared over his shoulder. "Dammit, Dad! We're busy!" he snapped.

"Sorry, Adam, that funky business will have to wait until we get back. Wash up and get your clothes on. We're going hunting."

"Can't you give us like ten more minutes?" Jay whined.

"No, because I'll get hungry, and when I get hungry, I get cranky. Believe me, a hungry, cranky vampire in a building full of people is not a good mix. Now hop to it."

Adam sighed. "I guess we'll have to finish this later, huh?"

Jay ran his thumb over his brother's lips. "I'm holding you to that. Now let's get cleaned up before Dad gets cranky."

_NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: My first slash makeout scene! Wow! Hope it didn't suck too much. Read and review. Reviews = Love!_


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